Get the Bad Guy, Bruce?
by Marcus S. Lazarus
Summary: The final thoughts of the elderly Rick Jones, as the Hulk battles it out with the evil Maestro in "Future Imperfect"...


Disclaimer: I don't own the Hulk, the Maestro, or Rick Jones. I don't even own the plot; that owes its existence

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AN: This story is told from the POV of the elderly Rick Jones as he witnesses the desperate struggle between the time-displaced Incredible Hulk and his future self, the Maestro, from the Hulk story 'Future Imperfect' (In which the Hulk was pulled over ninety years into the future to battle his future self, now the dictator of a world destroyed by two nuclear wars), culminating in the Maestro being killed and Rick dying.

Get the Bad Guy, Bruce?

I can hear him.

It's a distinctive sound- after all, after helping Bruce with so many fights, I _think _I can recognise the sound he makes when he's trying to get away from having taken a beating from a physically superior foe.

Just because it didn't happen often doesn't mean I don't know it.

And if he's coming down here...

The Maestro won't be far behind.

I looked around for something that I can use to defend myself almost automatically, before I realize I'm being stupid. I'm not a young boy anymore; I'm an old man, older than most people have a right to live...

If I tried to tackle the Maestro, I'd end up either dead or missing several limbs.

_But it's _Bruce _he's after..._

Not any of the rebels. Not Samson, Thor, not even Cap...

It's _Bruce_. The greatest friend I ever had... back when he still considers me a friend, rather than an enemy.

Back before he broke my back while he was brainwashed...

I stopped that train of thought right away. Whatever else the Hulk I'd had Janis retrieve was, he hadn't been responsible for that action, and I couldn't afford to think of him like that.

Otherwise... he'd die.

I just sat there in Professor X's old chair and listened as the Hulk dragged himself along the ground, getting stronger and stronger the further he went. As he started to get slightly fainter, I realised where he was going.

The time machine...?

Then I heard a loud thud that snapped out of my reminiscing straight away. Only one man alive in this time could make a sound like that right now...

The Maestro was coming.

I didn't have any time left to think. Quickly, I manoeuvred my chair over to one of the displays near me and grabbed Cap's old shield from the wall. Even after so many years, it was still a pretty powerful means of defence. If it couldn't protect me now, nothing could.

As I floated over to stand in front of the door, I slid the shield behind my chair, raised my harmonica to my lips, and began to play.

After a few seconds, thick, olive-green fingers curled under the edge of the door and hauled it up, revealing the, tall, muscular form of the Maestro.

It was a form that I knew almost as well as I knew my own... and at the same time, couldn't even recognise.

And not just because of the beard. The evil behind his eyes erased even the slightest similarities between him and Bruce, even taking into account the Maestro's greater age. Once, this guy had founded the Avengers and fought some of the deadliest threats the world had ever known. This... _thing_, whatever it was now... it wasn't Bruce. In body, in memories, it was, but in soul...

No.

My friend was dead.

This thing they called by his name was his murderer.

"Ah, as I thought," the Maestro said, smiling a little as he looked at me. "Jones. Life support systems still pumping away, old man?"

I didn't bother to answer him. After so many years, both as friends and as enemies, we didn't need words anymore.

"You know, Jones..." the Maestro said, as he walked towards me, "Out of a misplaced sense of gratitude, I let you live entirely too long."

"Heh... **Tell** me about it," I wheezed, as I pulled my harmonica from my mouth, staring at it as I spoke. "Y'know, Bruce..." I said, almost whispering, "you used t'be a **fun **guy." I looked up at him. "Too bad you turned into such a **dirtbag**."

The Maestro growled. "Years ago, I did you a favour and saved your life. Now I think I'll do you a favour... and take it." He drew his fist back. "Goodbye, Rick."

He threw his fist forward, in a blow that reminded me of the final blows he'd thrown against many of his stronger opponents.

Just in time, I pulled Cap's shield in front of me, with a small little smirk at the Maestro's expense.

"**Surprise**," I said...

Just as the Maestro's fist struck the shield.

"**WUNHHHH**!!" I yelled, as I flew back through the air, my chair shattering as a result of the blow...

"**_ARRHHHGGG_**!" I yelled, as I felt something sharp pierce my chest. I didn't even need to look to know what it was; in all the excitement, I'd forgotten that Wolverine's skeleton was right behind me...

And now his adamantium claws were sticking right into my chest. They were a couple of inches above my heart, so it wouldn't be immediately fatal, but I knew the truth.

I was a goner.

And the Maestro was still alive...

"Oh, that's beautiful," the Maestro chuckled as he watched me gasp in pain on the floor. "That's _rich_Use one souvenir to defend yourself and get killed by another."

He was standing over me now, looking down with a disdainful expression. "You always were an idiot, Jones," he told me.

He said more, but I was only half-paying attention. Even through my pain, I could see something move behind the Maestro, gradually moving towards America's fallen shield...

_Bruce_!

"...Never!" the Maestro yelled to me, breaking into my train of thought. "My _only_ regret is that you didn't live to see me write a finale to this inane little adventure of-"

Then he heard a slight _clink_! behind him as Bruce grabbed Cap's shield. "Eh?" he asked, as he turned around...

... To take the shield full in the chest, along with a roaring, bleeding Hulk.

"AKKKHHH!!" he yelled, as the shield buried itself into his stomach muscles.

Before he could do anything, Bruce was on him, his hands on the edge of the shield. "Let's see you heal," he yelled, as the two of them charged through Doctor Octopus's tentacles and Stilt-Man's legs, "when I _cut _you in _half_!" 

And I thought for a moment that maybe- just _maybe_- he could pull it off.

But no. Out of the corner of my eyes, I heard the Maestro grab the shield. "You..." he grunted, as he strained against his younger self. "You only get... _one_ chance...", the shield was out of his chest, "at me... and you _blew_it!" he yelled, throwing Bruce through the various helmets hanging from the roof.

As Bruce collapsed onto the ground, the Maestro stood up, grinning beneath his shaggy white beard. "You _could _have snuck in," he said, as arrogant as the Abomination had once been, "Gotten in close... struck _before_ I knew what was happening." Then his voice lost its slightly jolly aspect and became harder. "But for a moment, you reverted to type. And that moment..." he said, as he drew back the hand holding the shield, "will cost you... your _life_!"

And he threw the shield at Bruce. I winced, preparing to hear a bone-shattering crunch- and regretted it when fresh spasms of pain spread through my chest. I was nearly ready to give in to them and die...

But I couldn't.

Not while the Maestro lived...

Then the shield bounced off something, hit the ceiling, and struck the glass case where I kept Spidey's mask and Thor's hammer.

"Hah!" the Maestro grinned, from his position nearer to the case. "Now _there's _a thought! America's shield was never a threat to us _before_... because Cap couldn't hurl it with sufficient force to penetrate. But Thor's hammer, on the other hand, was _always _lethal!"

Before Bruce could do anything, the Maestro had reached down and grabbed the hammer. "And in my hands," he grinned as he looked up at Bruce, "it will be- UNFFF!!" he grunted, as he failed to even shift the hammer.

"I don't _believe_ it!" he roared, apparently forgetting that Bruce and I were even there. "I'm stronger than ever! Thor is long gone! And I _still _can't lift the damned thing?!"

I knew it was pointless, but I couldn't resist getting in a little jab at his expense. "Have to... be worthy..." I panted out. "Only 'damned thing' here... is **you**."

"No more weapons, Maestro!" Bruce yelled, as the Maestro glanced over in my direction. "No more tricks!"

And he leapt for the Maestro, kicking him directly in the face, as he yelled "No more INSANITY!"

The Maestro grunted as he stumbled back, and then yelled in rage as he struck something that shattered. "AHHHHH!" he yelled, as something rolled towards my head. "Can't cough _see_! Wha-?!"

I grinned a little as I recognised what had landed beside me.

The shattered jar holding the remains of Betty Banner.

"Nice goin'...Betty..." I grunted under my breath, grinning all the more as I heard Bruce start to strike out at the Maestro.

"The Leader..." Bruce growled, as he launched punch after punch at the Maestro's head, "the Abomination... the U-Foes... I've hated them all." Then his voice hardened, and he sounded like he was redoubling his efforts to knock the Maestro senseless. "But none of them... **_none_** of them... have made me as _sick _as you do!"

I smiled, my joy temporarily overpowering my pain. _Preach it, Bruce!_ I thought to myself. _Show this bastard who's boss!_

Then I heard the Maestro roar, "_You're_ complaining to _me_?!", heard Bruce grunt in agony, and realised that things weren't going according to plan.

"I tried to talk sense into you!" the Maestro yelled, as he punched Bruce again. "Tried to warn you! And you... you _buffoon_... you closed your eyes to it! Imagine how sickening it is to see someone so stupid and yet to brilliant! And then imagine when that someone is _you_!"

He threw Bruce through a wall, as he yelled out "We could have been GODS together!", and I winced. This didn't sound good...

I heard Bruce haul himself to his feet, and grumble something to the Maestro. I couldn't hear it, but I heard the worlds 'completely mad', and nodded slightly in agreement.

Then I heard Bruce start to drag himself along the ground, through the hole in the wall that the Maestro had created, and got curious. What was he planning...?

I strained to stay conscious, knowing that, if I fell asleep right now, I wouldn't be waking up. Even if it was only to die at the hands of the Maestro, I had to see who won this struggle...

I don't know how long I lay there, staring up at the cracked ceiling in front of me, trying desperately to hold onto life, but eventually my vision was filled with a large green face, topped with a slightly wild shock of dark green hair.

I grinned. "Get... the _bad_ guy... Bruce?" I asked him.

He nodded, as a single tear trickled out of his swollen eyes. "G-got him, Rick..." he nodded at me. "Now just hang on..."

"Hang on..." I groaned. "You're yankin' me..."

I tried to grin a little as I looked up at him, through eyes that already felt as heavy as some of the weights Bruce had used when he'd been in control.

"Saw everything... I needed to see...." I assured him. "Always loved ya, man... y'know..." I added, grinning at him again.

A blur of red passed above my eyes, which were already starting to lose focus. However, I still recognised it easily; Janis's hair.

If I'd been capable of doing anything, I would have cried for her. No kid should have to see her last relative die in front of her...

But as it was, I just grinned.

"Hey..." I gasped weakly, as I looked at her in what I thought were her eyes, "look... it's the kids..."

I couldn't take it any longer.

I couldn't stand to see my granddaughter suffer like that, even with such terrible vision...

I closed my eyes...

And suddenly I was back where it had all began. Back on the military test sight for the gamma bomb, facing the white-coated form of Bruce Banner.

Automatically, I found myself talking to him as I scrambled out of my small car, my harmonica in my hand.

"The other kids bet me I wouldn't have the nerve to sneak past the guards!" I yelled at him, marvelling at the newfound strength in my voice. "What do you want me to do, make them think I was chicken?"

"Come on, you young fool!" Bruce yelled at me, grabbing my arm and dashing towards a hole in the ground. "We have to reach the protective trench before the bomb goes off!"

And I turned around and ran after him, my legs restored, my body in its prime, the best years of my life ahead of me...

I was home.

The Maestro was dead.

And, for the last time, I had helped Bruce take down the bad guy...

My life was over.

And now I truly had all the time in the world...


End file.
